


365 days

by lapinprince



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst, Anxiety, Dealing With Loss, Implied Relationships, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Post-Endgame, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, endgame spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-31 05:06:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12125145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lapinprince/pseuds/lapinprince
Summary: Months after the events of the ship, Akira gives himself one year to wait for Goro's return. If he doesn’t come back within that time, then he will forget everything.And so, the fool that he was, he waits.





	1. prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! welcome to something that has been worked on for literal months- im excited to finally post it! 
> 
> i am going to be updating the tags of this fic as they come up to prevent spoilers of what will happen; however, if you're concerned about any specific types of content you can find a list of future tags and some notes [here](https://lapinprince.tumblr.com/365days). there are spoilers for the rest of the fic though, so only look if you're worried about something coming up!
> 
> either way, i won't have an update schedule bc of school and work- but you can always keep track of me on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/laprincenico)
> 
> as well, please mind a cw for needles and emeto in this chapter u0u
> 
> without further ado, i hope you enjoy 365 days.

_december 21st_

As it seemed, all reality was just based upon perception, what the brain wanted to see. 

Or so Akira believed, turning away from the barrier after the deafening sound of the partition rushing upward and coming to a still soon after it thrashed into place. His eyes fluttered shut, his trust in Goro swelling like a warm bubble in his chest as he turned his back to the scene. He needed to be a leader, after all, and that bubble popped cruelly as he heard the gunshots- two, if his ears heard it correctly- and his breath hitched in his throat as he wasn’t sure if he heard the telltale sound of a body hitting the ground in a pile or not. The darklit innards of the ship blanched and cold pins pricked the surface of his skin as Akira pleaded to himself that he was just hearing things, that none of this was _real_ \-- he heard the click of his boots but couldn’t recall moving his legs, and splotches of light blue entered his vision, reaching forth to grab him by the arms. Akira stared blankly as his eyes focused on a mouth moving, garbled words from a deep voice that he couldn’t decipher, the calm tone such a sharp contrast to the tense panic gripping his shoulders and the hands were squeezing him now, the voice growing louder and his body forced him to _breathe_ \-- and the world refocused.

“His signal’s gone,” a voice said, his bleary mind identifying it as Futaba. The navigator spoke with her chin tilted down, unable to meet anyone in the eye. No, that didn’t mean anything. Futaba could be wrong. She _was_ wrong. He wouldn’t believe it until he saw it.

“We should go-” Morgana spoke up, but was interrupted by Akira yanking out of Yusuke’s grip and rushing over to the steel wall, holding his ear to it to listen to the other side. Nothing. Futaba stared at Akira expectantly, the rest of the Thieves staring stock still at his sudden outburst, but he avoided their gaze while he pulled away from the partition.

“Let’s keep going,” somebody said, though at this point it didn’t matter who. Akira sharply tugged his gloves further onto his hands, the tender spaces between his fingers aching from the seams digging into the webbing. Something, anything to keep him here. His legs took him away from the scene, away from where he wanted to be most, and he held it all in for the rest of their visit and the so called fearless leader promptly retched his day’s meals into a nearby garbage can once they landed back in the real world.

* * *

_march 31st_

“Your third year, hm?” Takemi mused. She leaned back in her chair and tapped the end of a pencil on a clipboard. Her eyes watched Akira’s expression carefully, looking for every miniscule wince and twitch from the pain of the needle stuck in his crook of his elbow, raising an eyebrow when she saw that there were none. 

“Yeah,” he replied, as stony faced as always. Takemi checked the capacity of the bag, tilting it slightly before letting it go again. 

“Hm. I’m surprised you’re still here, with everything else that happened,” she hummed, looking at him with a tilt of her head. 

“They wanted me to stay because of what happened,” Akira replied, “Is this done yet?” Takemi glanced more towards the bag connected to Akira and shrugged. 

“Because of your friends?” she asked while detaching the curly haired boy from the blood supply bag. She supposed she had enough blood to conduct her research, as well as another personal project that was seeming more and more necessary. She passed him a ripped up cotton ball and a bandaid. 

“I dunno. I just went with what the probation officers said.” Akira rubbed at the injection site and applied the dressings he was given. 

“Don’t do anything you don’t want to do,” Takemi warned. “It’s your life, okay? If you need to be away from Tokyo to get your mind off things, do it.” A noncommittal noise escaped Akira’s throat as he stood up to leave. 

“I’ll see you,” he said simply, ignoring everything Takemi had said. The doctor sighed slightly, giving him a small wave as he left. 

He made his way back to Leblanc immediately, running up the stairs to drop off his bags. He came downstairs, plucking an apron from the hook and tossing it over his head. This had all become second nature by now, stepping behind the counter, ensuring there was enough grounds of the Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee beans, pouring it into the siphon and pulling the perfect cup of black coffee and setting the mug in front of an empty seat at the counter. Sojiro watched him as he did this- not the first day of this strange routine by far- but said nothing. Perhaps this was just the kid’s way of grieving, and he had no place to judge. Sojiro had expressed his worries of Akira not moving on from the past once before, and he decided that it all shouldn’t be his responsibility- not yet, at least.

Besides, Akira was fine. He had already made his deal with himself, so to speak. He looked at the clock; one day before the school year started, the first days he met Ryuji and Ann. A small smile crept on his face as he thought of the days passing by.

He would give himself 365 days, he had decided. He would wait for Akechi Goro for 365 days, and if Akechi Goro did not show up, Akira would give up on him and move on. He thought it was plenty of time, and he felt confident that Goro would take whatever time he needed and come back as soon as possible.

April began the next day, and his timer would begin. 365 days to let Goro come back, and judging from the past few days, when he did come back there would be a hot cup of Blue Mountain coffee already sitting waiting for him.

When, was the word that Akira kept using in his head. There was no question in his mind that Goro would come back, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _come on in,_   
>  _i've gotta tell you what a state i'm in_


	2. april

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new school year starts, and Akira's mind is on anything but school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this update comes a lot sooner than i expected. ive been feeling very ill lately so ive had more time to write... but at the same time im really behind in school OTL but i hope you enjoy?
> 
> im really considering adding more tags that will spoil the story so i can get more people interested in this fic... its interesting, i swear! ill see how it goes after this chapter i guess. this chapter may be a little rough because i really just wanted to post it already hehe. 
> 
> again, you can find me on twitter at @[laprincenico](https://twitter.com/laprincenico)! 
> 
> \- ♔

Akira had almost forgotten about school by the first day of the new year. He stared dully at himself as he affixed the third year button to his blazer, pulling the second year button off. He had changed, noticeably. More than he thought he would, but he supposed it couldn’t necessarily be _bad_ as the sallow pale complexion of his face and the dark grey bags complementing his steel grey eyes didn’t _have_ to be indicators of his wellbeing. Really, he was doing just fine-- he was no different from before he met any of the Thieves. 

Nevermind the fact that he wasn’t exactly doing the greatest at that point, either.

His hand reached up to touch his hair- his curly locks had grown, steadily reaching to his shoulders. Not wanting to look too messy on the first day of school, he dug around in his drawers until he found an old hairtie that Ann had probably dropped. He carefully twisted his hair into a small ponytail sitting at the nape of his neck, dragging his fingertips up to touch it once he was finished. Fond memories of reaching to playfully tug at Goro’s ponytail made him smile as he pulled on his curls.

“Why do you have to do that?” Goro would say, annoyance on his face, clearly masking the amusement that he felt.

“Your hair’s soft,” Akira would say, or he would say something about simply wanting to, or feeling like it. Goro always flushed slightly at any comment about his body or appearance no matter the intention, a sweet dusting of rosy pink on his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“You only do that when it’s in a ponytail, Akira.” The detectives near shoulder length locks were irresistible too, but the tufts of wavy chestnut hair poking out from the hairband were always just begging to be played with, tied up with nimble fingers clad in soft leather gloves.

“I like it.” To that response, Goro’s face would just flush darker and the subject would be changed. Akira laughed quietly at how predictable their conversations could be. He could repeat them in his head as if they happened just days ago. Would he cut his hair? Maybe.

“Hey, aren’t you going to school?” Morgana piped up, interrupting Akira’s train of thought, stepping down from the shelf above the mirror. How long had he been up there? He sat closer to Akira, tail swishing behind him, an unmistakable sense of worry on his face. 

“Oh, I am. I just got distracted,” Akira replied plainly, closing his blazer properly and picking up his bag. Morgana paused, peering at the closed bag.

“Oh, right- did you still want to come to school with me?” Akira asked, noticing Morgana’s gaze. He reached to open the bag, but Morgana shook his head, pensive.

“I have stuff I can do,” Morgana replied, laying down on his perch. “Have a good day at school, though.” Akira shuffled the shoulder straps back up his arm and gave a nod to him.

“Okay. See you.” Akira disappeared down the stairs, Morgana watching carefully as he went. The poor boy had seemed more absentminded than usual lately, but it was to be expected considering what he’d been through. Still, he had reason to worry with the amount of blistered spots of burns on his hands from hot water or coffee or the stove, all from not paying attention to the contents of the canisters he held. Too careless to not care.

“My reflexes must be off now,” he had said in justification to his clumsiness, as if only a few months away from the Metaverse was enough to erase the agility and proficiency he had trained. Morgana scoffed, waiting a short while before he left the house as well, en route to visit Futaba.

* * *

Going to school without Morgana felt off, but then again, most things did. Akira sat in his new classroom quietly in the same seat as last year, making no effort to absorb the material being delivered to him. Small pencil doodles decorated the corner of his notebook, his chin resting on a hand as if he was deep in thought. His pencil turned in his hand as he shaded this and that, using the tip of his eraser to rub blank holes in the graphite. 

“What’s that?” Ann whispered, turning her head to look behind her. She wrinkled her nose, realizing that her friend was blatantly not paying attention. “Akira, you should be listening to-”

“It’s a starry sky,” Akira replied softly, looking at his drawing with the slightest of dreamy smiles. Ann faltered in her chastising, swallowing awkwardly.

“It’s… nice,” she said, eyeing the detail of each spark of light on the page.

“The same one that everyone sees. That’s what I like about them.” Akira’s finger touched the page, tracing the path between the stars, not realizing he had smudged the silvery pencil lines until he noticed the mark on the pad of his fingertip. “Oh-”

“Kurusu, are you even paying attention?” the teacher barked, tossing a piece of chalk at Akira. It hit him square in the forehead, bouncing off and clattering to the ground somewhere beside him.

“Oh. Sorry,” he said unfazed, looking back down to his sketch. The teacher huffed, mumbling something about hopeless cases and continued on with the lecture.

“Surprised you didn’t catch that,” Ann mumbled. Akira shrugged.

Honestly, he was too.

* * *

Akira returned home without fanfare, passing through Leblanc. Sojiro stood behind the counter in his usual barista garb, pressing a faded dishtowel into the wet mug in his hand. 

“Back from school?” Sojiro asked, catching the boy before he could retreat upstairs. Akira paused and turned to the man.

“Yeah. Do you need help?” he asked. Sojiro studied the flat tone of Akira, wrinkling his nose in concern. 

“No, I was just checking up on--” he began, promptly interrupted by Akira suddenly shushing him, grey eyes wide. Akira tossed his bag down and walked over to the TV, his chest clenching at what was showing.

_”And so, you’re not bothered by your drop in popularity, Akechi-kun?”_ a woman asked, her hands folded in her lap. She leaned forward, eager for a response from the detective sitting across from her. 

_”Well, no… it happens with the job, especially when you’re as public as I am. All I need is to follow my own justice after all… I’m not looking for others’ approval.”_ Akechi beamed a sickly sweet smile to the interviewer and the audience, a knowing look in his eyes from the dual meaning of his words. 

_”That’s so true! You have to stay true to yourself, right?”_ a man added, trading plastic smile for plastic smile on air. The interview cut there showing the present day set, making Akira’s chest ache as he realized it was an old recording. Though the stage looked the same, it only showed the man and woman sitting in the interviewers’ seat, with the spot across them empty. He knew it was just the transition, but seeing the change made him feel a heavy pit in his stomach. 

_”That was the last interview where we had Detective Prince Akechi-kun on our show,”_ the woman said in such a matter of fact tone, Akira wasn’t sure if she was even sad. How could she even use such a ridiculous title in a serious situation like this? _”Unfortunately, Akechi-kun still seems to be missing, and if anyone were to see him, they are to call the police immediately--”_

The TV turned off, and Akira whipped his head around to see why, eyes wide. Sojiro put the remote down on top of the TV and shook his head. 

“Listen, kid, watching that sort of stuff won’t help you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Akira let out a sigh and he picked himself up again, grabbing his bag on the way up. 

“You hear me? Don’t make this sort of thing harder for yourself, Akira.” Sojiro stepped back towards the counter after the lack of response, allowing the curly haired boy to make his way up the stairs. 

“That was the first time I’ve heard his voice since…” Akira mumbled to himself, setting his bag down near his desk and sitting down on his bed. He laid back, closing his eyes, trying to play the sound of Goro’s voice in his head again. Not the overly professional fronted voice he used in interviews, but the genuine quality of Goro’s voice when he knew nobody else was around, but when Akira was. 

Where could he hear his voice more? He wouldn’t want to forget it, it had only been a few months so it wouldn’t do to forget Goro’s voice already. Picking up his phone, Akira scrolled through Youtube, typing in several combinations of keywords until he found a playlist of all of Goro’s appearances on television. 

Smiling to himself, he hit play. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _came facing twilight on and on,_   
>  _without a clue_


End file.
